colors |isaac lahey ✔

Twelve

Louisa Lloyd

"Don't kill her." I get closer to Peter, just to take Lydia's unconscious and bloodied body from here.

Peter then starts walking away like nothing happened. Like he didn't just bite an innocent girl.

"No. We can't just leave her here."

"You're coming with me, Stiles. You don't have a choice." Peter moves his eyes form Stiles to me. "And you're coming too."

"Then kill me. I don't care."

Peter eyes him, head craning forward as if to determine Stiles's conviction by scent or heartbeat. I can tell he's serious just by looking at him.

"Call your friend. Tell Jackson where she is. That's all you get." Peter says with a satisfied nod.

With a trembling hand, Stiles pulls his phone from his coat. He sends the text and Peter guides us to Stiles' jeep.

Screams burst over the parking lot of the school. Girls point in terror and heads snap around to look at the nightmarish sight stepping out of the woods.

But we keep walking past every single one of them.

We reach the jeep and I sit in the backseat, Stiles driving and Peter smirking at me from the passenger seat.

"Somebody help me! Help me!" I can hear Jackson pleading for help as he picks Lydia's body from the field.

And there's nothing we can do to help. My phone buzzes in my pocket and it hurts me not to pick it up. I left Isaac alone in there. I'm the worst person in the entire world.

I close my eyes and grip the door handle, trying not to strangle Peter. Who turns only slightly at the screams only the two of us can hear.

He glances back to the worried boy driving beside him.

"Oh, don't feel so bad. If she lives she'll turn into a werewolf. She'll be incredibly powerful."

"And once a month she'll go out of her freaking mind and try to tear me apart." Stiles whispers, a mix of anger and desperation on his voice.

"Actually, considering she's a woman... Twice a month." Stiles throws him a glare of pure hatred and pushes the pedal to the floor.

"Douche..." I make sure Peter hears me.

I get a glare in return, but it only manages to lighten my mood. As Stiles drives, I take my phone from my purse but Peter snatches it from my grasp.